


just a few sweaters.

by Prettything_uglylie



Series: fictober 2020 [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Asexual Charlie Weasley, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter is the MAIN SHIP i PROMISE, F/F, F/M, Fred Weasley Dies, Gay Oliver Wood, Harry Potter & Ron Weasley Friendship, Harry Potter is a Good Boyfriend, Lesbian Ginny Weasley, M/M, Multi, POV Molly Weasley, Percy Weasley is a Dork, Protective George Weasley, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Supportive molly weasley, Werewolf Bill Weasley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:55:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26944018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettything_uglylie/pseuds/Prettything_uglylie
Summary: When her children fall in love, Molly Weasley knits their significant other's a jumper. No one has been exempt from this rule. Ever.
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Harry Potter & Molly Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood
Series: fictober 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954993
Comments: 47
Kudos: 506





	just a few sweaters.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plutomurphy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutomurphy/gifts).



> despite the tags, the main ship is harry/draco, i just was tired and got my tags all shifted around in order of appearance rather than how big it is!   
> anyways enjoy!   
> also, you can tell how much I love molly weasley via this fic, huh?

She decides to knit for the people she loves and with that, the people she loves who love other people. 

So, when the day comes she can knit for her children's significant others is a joyous one she had only realized with Bill. 

When the telly rings and Bill’s voice comes through a muffled ringing, almost victorious like he was after a good mission gone right or when he had played Quidditch and won the game, Molly Weasley’s heart picks up in her chest. Ever since the attack with Greyback, her eldest son had felt more catacomb than joy-bell he had originally been, so eager for the world ahead of them until Greyback had turned him and even with Lupin’s help - Remus was a good man but it was clear he was still grieving Sirius and whenever she would talk to Bill, she would make sure to tell him not to wear out the other man too much - and their support, Bill had shrunk into himself more than a little. 

_ Ma,  _ he starts, sounding as though he was still that same tuft of red hair bouncing at her feet on Christmas morning, an excited little boy and she hadn’t known she had wanted more than one child until she had looked into little Bill’s big blue eyes and had thought that she wanted a thousand of him if she could,  _ I’ve met someone.  _

He’ll tell her over the next couple of phone calls - they’re close still, she gets a call every week from Bill on Fridays and she waits for them all week - about her, about the way she smiles and the way her cute mouth forms words around her French accent and he will finally give her a name:  _ Her name’s Fleur. Like flower, Ma. She’s beautiful, my flower.  _

It makes her smile. 

She begins her sweater after that phone call, now that she knows what letter to put on the front of the jumper. 

* * *

Charlie calls whenever he can, which usually means she gets a call about once a month and a letter maybe twice every six months but he tries and he works busy hours. Charlie is a man addicted to his job, in love with it in many ways. 

He does not seem distraught over his pushing of time towards a later date of his life, instead seeming entirely fulfilled and satisfied with his life without anyone, even as she asks, “Have you found anyone, Charlie?” 

She knows the answer will be no, but she still asks and Charlie’s voice is a gentle husky laugh into the phone when he says, “Nah, Mum, I think I’m alright without someone.” 

She knew that too. She knits a sweater for Charlie alone and doesn’t feel any emptier for it. 

* * *

It isn’t that he tells her. No, Percy does not tell her and she does not ask, after all, he’s her most subtle son, and if he does not want to disclose it first, Molly won't pressure him. 

But she gets curious after Oliver Wood practically moves into the Burrow over the summer break and one day, when it strikes noon, Oliver has not moved to their yard to practice Quidditch with what he can and Percy has not moved to sit in their yard with a book open on his lap but spend all of his time propped against a tree, watching his best friend fly around on his broomstick in a mock of the game he so loves. 

She enters Percy's room and finds them curled up on the bed together, Oliver's head nestled on Percy's shoulder and Percy's typically frowning face folded into a serene smile as he sleeps - it makes her heart jump. 

Molly Weasley knits Oliver Wood a sweater with hopes that one day her son will be brave enough to tell him that he loves him. 

[ he isn't. He marries a woman named Audrey and they fall into a loveless marriage but after the battle of Hogwarts, when Oliver comes to give them his condolences, she gives him his sweater and with tears in his eyes and a scar through his eyebrow that makes him look older than he is, he pulls her into a hug and murmurs into her shoulder, _Thanks, Mom._ She only wishes it were real. ] 

* * *

Fred dates on and off. He has girlfriends and even a few boyfriends - she had thought for a while that Lee Jordan was going to be It for him, the one but after knitting him a jumper, the two had parted amicably and Fred had still given him the sweater and his smile had been bright with the glowing youth and mischief of their capabilities. 

He has people behind to grieve him other than his family. 

Lee's smile had been broad when he had gotten Fred's love in that gray jumper but his sobs had been loud at Fred's funeral just the same. 

Hers hadn't been any quieter, she was burying her son, after all. 

She still knits him a sweater every year even though she knows no one will wear it. 

It sits in a brown box in her closet and collects dust but it feels infinitely better than not making one for her little boy. 

* * *

George brings home a girl named Angelina Johnson, her smile a bit tilted and Molly remembers her name from Fred's letter that he was 'seeing her for a bit' and took her to the Yule Ball but at their first dinner altogether as a family, Angelina says something sarcastic and it makes George roar with laughter. 

It's the first time he's genuinely laughed since they lowered Fred into his grave. 

Molly Weasley very quickly decides that she likes Angelina if she can make her boy happy like that. 

She knits her jumper pink, for the lover, for the blood both her boys really spilled that day. 

Molly just hopes they find love in each other where they're both looking for Fred. 

* * *

Her Ron brings Hermione Granger home and Harry Potter into their family. It isn't until their third year that it clicks, that Ron's friends are permanent fixtures in their home and even in the face of being called names and harassed as blood traitors, Harry Potter himself will stand in their home and with them as a seamless member of their family. 

One day, after his third year's let out, Ron asks her, seemingly out of the blue, "Mum?" 

"Yes, Ronald?" She replies, still finishing up the dishes before Ron continues, head in the clouds, 

"How'd you know you were in love with Dad? ...How'd he ask you out?" 

The month after that Harry and Hermione join them for the Quidditch Cup and she clocks how Ron looks at Hermione like she not only hung the stars but invented them from hand with hands that would not burn up in any ashes or atmosphere. 

She knits Hermione's sweater while they're away at the Cup. 

* * *

Harry does not show up at the Burrow for too long one break and when she asks him where he is, Ron shrugs and says, "Don't know, Mum." in that tone that implies he knows exactly where he is. 

After a long talk and more than a little convincing, she is able to get it out of him that they had some sort of falling out because Harry's seeing someone that Ron very pointedly _hates_ ("we use the words 'don't like', Ron") and Harry admitted that he loved him, which angered Ron. 

_I'm not prejudiced, Mum, I just hate - I mean, don't like - the bloke, okay? I told Harry that but he got all defensive about saying he didn't mean to fall for him but he did and that's...it's gross! I mean, any other guy would have been fine but Malfoy!?!_ He rants and it is the first time that the name has slipped from her son's lips. 

She's more than a little shocked herself. 

She doesn't immediately knit Draco Malfoy a jumper. 

* * *

Her stitching of Draco Malfoy's jumper begins the night after Harry has another event, declaring him as a hero and they're all there, backstage to watch. Draco's there, amongst them, pointedly watching Harry and holding a cordial but stiff conversation with Hermione, fluffing the blonde locks of his hair nervously every few minutes, as though he is tempted to pull it rather than just fluff it; her motherly instincts yell at her to reassure him that he's alright but she refuses, both out of a secret pettiness but also because she is not sure that, if she did, he wouldn't snarl at her and call her a blood traitor. 

When Harry finishes a speech about redemption and hard times and winning a war fought too long she is more than proud of him for and wonders if he wrote it himself, imagines him stressed over a desk for hours on end, imagines Hermione helping him with it - he comes off the stage and hugs her and Hermione and Ron while George, Arthur, and Bill congratulate him loudly. Draco Malfoy still looks nervous, his hand tufting his hair again until it falls in front of his face in a messy spill that makes him look a little more human.

 _One hell of a speech!_ Ron exclaims, throwing himself into Harry's arms in an embrace before saying, _You wrote that?!_

 _Nah,_ Harry dismisses with a shrug, _I wrote some. Credit where credit is due._

And then, he shifts over to Draco and, hand - to her motherly instincts - inappropriately low on the blond's slight waist, pulls him in for a kiss, full of passion and love she's not so used to seeing since Bill and Fleur's wedding. 

When Harry pulls away, she realizes Hermione, George and herself are smiling, Ginny and Ron look their bout of distrustful but not latching at Malfoy's throat and he murmurs loudly enough to be heard, _Maybe I should keep it a little more PG in front of my mum._

It takes her a moment to realize he's referring to her as his mother and takes her another moment not to cry about it on spot and Malfoy clears his throat, pale cheeks flushed and his mouth forms the words _'your mum'_ with a bit of shock. His grey-blue eyes are deeply filled with gratitude and it's the first time she notices he's shorter than both Harry and Ron, only slightly taller than Hermione. 

It makes him very human all of a sudden. 

She stays up late that night considering his humanity, considering how Harry glows with him and she decides, maybe even Malfoys can love. 

* * *

Molly knits a jumper - same light grey as his eyes and the 'D' the blue his eyes also carry - for Draco Malfoy but she still isn't sure she'll give it to him. He might, after all, sneer in her face and call her a blood traitor as his father would or if he would think it a cheap gift or complain about the scratchy fabric. 

Then, Christmas comes. 

Christmas comes and it brings all of her children home to the Burrow - even Percy, Audrey, and their child named Zeus make attendance - and Harry, of course, comes, and he brings a very nervous-looking Draco. 

He looks like he's lost at least the night prior's sleep and maybe hasn't eaten that day and if she piles a little extra on his plate, well, his smile is trying and kind in nature and she does not detest the boy his attempts. 

At dinner, Ginny curses as she tries to address Harry's boyfriend incorrectly for the umpteenth time - _Malf-fuck, **Draco** , _she starts for the sixth time, hand curled in Luna Lovegood's (who had received her jumper and their love for her birthday a few months prior) but the blond man shrugs it off before assuring, _You can call me 'Malfoy' if it's easier for you._

The statement, where it may have before, holds no condescension and is instead an open and genuine offer to Ginny in a move that makes their girl lift her eyebrows but Molly is not surprised. His name is the easiest thing to sacrifice to their mouths. 

_Thought you were going to start going by Black like your mum, Mate,_ Ron says, mouth overflowing with mashed potatoes and Draco looks more than a bit shocked, either at Ron being privy to that knowledge or at being called 'Mate' by Ron, who had tied with Ginny for his loudest aggressor. 

He pretends to contain himself but Molly recognizes a broken boy trying to be a man well and she sees it in him as he separates his potatoes and turkey a little more, eating much more slowly than everyone else. He shrugs again, _Yeah, I guess._

 _It'll make it easier,_ Percy says, pointing with the tongs of his fork and seeming to take his time as well or at least eat less fast than the others do, before he finishes, _I mean, if you're still aiming for that job at St. Mungo's._

That surprises her and though she knows the boy was never a monster - never a killer nor a torturer - his involvement with medicine surprises her. He's attempting to make up for past wrong-doings and he's putting himself into a career where he can help people, her motherly brain points out and she softens slightly, _St. Mungo's? Dear, that's wonderful!_

Draco gives her one of those slight smiles he's rather good at and nods in appreciation, still cowed from the war, from his past actions but she knows over time, over bonding with them, there will be more of him and himself to work with for them.

She can't wait for the time. 

* * *

As they're all unwrapping presents, he gifts her a new apron and she assumes he's noticed her old one falling apart but the assumption brings on so much implication and an honest amount of earnestness, and it's an earnest attempt, watching him bite his lip and his hand look as though it's grasping too tight in Harry's as she opens it. 

She murmurs, _one second. Arthur must have forgotten._

She grabs the sweater and a bag. 

Out of respect, Molly Weasley pretends she doesn't notice as tears brim his eyes and he whispers _thank you, Ma'am._

They'll work on it, after all, no one has ever been exempt from Molly Weasley's jumper rule and this broken boy will not be the first. 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked this! kudos and comments are my addiction!!!!


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